


Jungle Love

by clgfanfic



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes weird is good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jungle Love

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Mating Rituals #5 under the pen name Casey Squire.

Stepping into the loft, the first thing to reach Jim Ellison's super-sensitive ears was a soft grunt.  Hanging his jacket on a empty hook by the door, the Cascade Police detective focused on the source of the sound – Blair Sandburg.

Sandburg was sitting on the couch in the loft's living room, slightly irregular breaths puffing out of his lungs.  The odor of pain quickly reached the Sentinel's nose.

Crossing the room, Ellison stood behind the sofa, looking down at the younger man.  "Hey, you okay?"

"Bad headache," the graduate student sighed.  His eyes were closed, misery pinching deep lines into the corners.  Scattered across the coffee table in front of the sofa were the telltale signs of the treatments tried and failed: the ashes of burned sage, several small bottles of essential oils, an aromatherpy candle, several relaxation CDs, and even a bottle of Excedrin – extra strength.

"Is it any better?" Jim asked, his soft voice reflecting his concern.

"No," Blair sighed, sliding down lower on the couch and resting the back of his head against the padded material.  He groaned again.  "Man, I've tried everything I can think of, and _nothing's_ working."

"Even the Excedrin?"

"Yeah," Blair grouched, "and I _hate_ taking that synthetic junk."

"It hasn't helped at all?"

" _No_."  Blair reached up and gingerly rubbed at his temples.  "I think it's stress…  Man, what a pain."

"Stress?" Jim asked, grinning in spite of his concern.  "You?  Stressed out?  Mr. Laid Back himself?"

"Yeah, well, this whole dissertation thing is driving me crazy, absolutely stark-raving-nuts."

"I thought you were basically done," Jim said, edging closer to the sofa.  Reaching out, he gently massaged the top of Blair's shoulders.

"I am," he replied, then moaned softly.  "Oh, man, that feels good.  But the paperwork's ridiculous.  Hoops, hoops and more hoops.  I feel like a poodle in a dog circus."

Jim chuckled at the metaphor, his hands continuing to knead at the tight muscles knotted across the graduate student's shoulders.  "Well, the sooner you get it done, the sooner it'll be done."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Blair grumbled, then grunted softly.  "Man, maybe I need to go find myself a massage therapist.  I bet Naomie can give me a list of names.  Gotta be somebody local I can afford."

Jim shifted his ministrations, rubbing along Sandburg's jawline.  The man's skin was still smooth, and Jim couldn't help but marvel how a man with that much hair on his head could escape the curse of five o'clock shadow.

"Ohhh gawd," Blair slurred.  "That's… amazing."

"Shh," Jim scolded.  "You're supposed to be relaxing, remember?"

"Mmmm… 'laxing"

The detective continued working, pulling his fingers along Blair's jawline again, then rubbing past his ears to reach his temples.  He used his fingertips to press out slow circles.  When he heard the younger man's breathing stretch into long, deep breaths, he moved his hands, his fingers pulling across Blair's high forehead.

"You're really good at this," Blair said softly, his voice thick with pleasure and relief.

"Shh," Jim reminded as his fingers moved into Sandburg's hairline.

The silky softness of his Guide's hair was a surprise, and Jim closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the feel of the thick, long curls against his hands.  He breathed in deeply, catching the scent of the natural soap Sandburg had talked him into using.  On top of that was the organic shampoo, both mixed with Blair's own scent.

Cocking his head slightly to one side, Jim listened to the faint, velvety rush of hair against hair.  Like a soft breeze, the sound made him smile.  He could hear Sandburg's muscles relax, his clothes falling to rest on slackened epidermis, the sofa giving to accept the additional weight.

Tuning his hearing back to normal, Ellison kept his eyes closed and drew in a deep breath through his nose.  The scent of pain that he'd noticed earlier had begun to disappear, replaced by another aroma – sexual arousal.

Jim's eyes blinked open, his eyebrows arched in surprise.  Looking down at Blair, he sought out corroboration.  And he found it.  There, under the shield of relaxed-fit jeans, Ellison could see his Guide's semi-hard erection stir, jerking ever so slightly as waves of pleasure rolled from his scalp to his groin.

Ellison's own answering arousal was immediate and demanding.

He briefly considered stepping away and heading for a cold shower, but he was frozen in place, trapped by his own desire even as he tried to deny it.

"Sit up a little," Jim ordered huskily.

Blair wiggled his butt, pushing himself up and slamming a fist of molten desire straight into Ellison's groin.

 _No_ , Jim scolded himself.  _Get a grip, Ellison_ , he commanded even as his hands moved out of the man's curly hair to seek out the back of his neck.  As the detective rubbed and stroked, Sandburg's head dipped forward, his chin almost resting on his chest, and he sighed contentedly.

Jim's hands moved back to Sandburg's shoulders, and finding the muscles there pliant, they slipped down, massaging over collarbones covered by soft flannel.  Another wave of excitement pounded through Jim's groin when he caught a whiff of his Guide's growing arousal.

 _Stop, stop, stop_ , Jim growled at himself, but he couldn't.

As if he was watching someone else, Ellison gazed in growing panic as his hands deftly attacked the first two buttons that were fastened on Blair's shirt, slipping in to rub against warm bare skin.

Sandburg's head lifted sluggishly, then he let it drop back, resting it against Jim's lower abdomen.

The detective closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath as the heat from the crown of Sandburg's head coiled through his guts before sliding straight into his already straining erection.  But even as his attention was drawn to his own desire, Jim's hands continued to work across Blair's chest.

Images flashed through Ellison's mind, shadowed and obscure.  But he recognized the setting – the jungle.  The faintest scent of tropical flowers reached his nose.

"You smell that?" Jim asked, his eyes still closed.  If he could just ignore what was happening…

"Wha–?" Blair replied, his voice as thick as cold honey.

"That smell," Jim almost whispered.  "It's like jungle flowers…"

"Mmm," was the grad student's only reply as Jim leaned forward so he could rub down along Sandburg's ribs.

The images flashed through Jim's mind again, more vivid this time.  He opened his eyes.  He _was_ in the jungle, the verdant green almost painful to his eyes.  He squinted as he looked around, trying to fix his position.  A low growl captured his attention and he turned slowly.  A large black jaguar crouched on a Suburban-sized boulder.

Jim's body jerked in recognition.

"What?" Blair questioned, sitting up straight on the couch.

"N-Nothing," Jim assured him, pressing Sandburg's shoulders back against the sofa.

"But you–"

Ellison's hands moved back into the long curls, twining the man's hair in his fingers and tugging gently.

"Oh gawd," Sandburg sighed heavily, his heels coming up off the floor, then dropping back with a soft thud.

 _I can't let this happen_ , Jim cautioned himself.  _I have to stop…  Now._ Ellison trembled slightly when he heard a warm breeze, whispering through the thick foliage.  The jaguar called again.  Then, in a sudden rush of brilliant color, the loft melted away, and the smells that had only teased him earlier now attacked Ellison's senses like potent spices.  He felt his knees weaken, but they held him on his feet.

"Sandburg?" he called as the new reality locked into place like a sudden slap to the face.

"Jim?"

Ellison turned quickly, and stumbled.  Righting himself he stared open-mouthed at his Guide.

Blair grinned and blushed.  "Uh, Jim, where are we?"

Swallowing hard, Ellison forced himself to look away from the younger man's naked arousal.  Meeting his Guide's eyes, he shrugged and shook his head.  "I– I don't know."  He turned away.

"Uh, Jim?"

"It's the jungle."

"I got that far all by myself," Sandburg teased.  "Hey, look at this."

Ellison looked back in time to see Blair disappear into the thick, humidity-damp foliage.  "Sandburg!" he called, lunging after the younger man.

Bursting past the broad green leaves, Ellison stumbled to a hasty stop. In a small cleaning was what looked like a good-sized futon, but the batting-filled material was the brightly-colored weave of the Peruvian Indians.  A wooden bowl sat near one corner of the mat.  A liquid in the bowl caught the sun's rays, glistening brightly.

Sandburg stood at the foot of the mat, grinning.  "What do you think it is?"

"How should I know?" Jim snapped irritably.  _What the hell's going on?_  The last thing he remembered was rubbing Sandburg's shoulders… to help his headache.

Jim felt the blood rush to his face, turning his cheeks and ears red as he remembered the scent of Sandburg's sexual arousal, and worse, his own response to it.

"What?" Blair asked his expression curious.

"Nothing," Ellison blurted.

"Jim," the graduate student said patiently, "it has to be _something_ , I mean, look at this place," he said, waving his hands.  "I mean, we were in the loft, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Jim admitted.  "The loft."

Blair walked around the mat.  "Looks–"

"Yeah, I know what it looks like, but we _can't_ be in Peru.  Can we?"

Excited, curious blue eyes met Jim's worried blue ones.  "Well, we're _not_ in the loft," the graduate student said.  "At least, uh, I don't think we are."  His head cocked to the side slightly.  "Okay, okay, let's assume we _are_ in the loft," he suggested.  "Where were you standing?"

"Behind the couch," Jim replied immediately.

"Right," Blair said, "and I was sitting on the couch."  He thought for a brief moment.  "That means the stereo should be over there," he decided, pointing.  He took three long strides and shoved his hands into the bushes.  The leaves fluttered. "Uh, it looks and feels like a real jungle to me, Jim."

"That's impossible," Ellison replied, striding over to join his Guide.  Squatting down, he reached out and touched one of the leaves.  The texture was smooth and slightly damp.  He could feel the veins running along the surface, the slight ridges pulsing slightly as water and nutrients moved through the plant.

"And I wonder where our clothes are," Blair said, standing.

Ellison glanced down, realizing for the first time that he was as naked as Sandburg.  Only willpower kept him from moving his hands to cover his now-flaccid penis.

"I have no idea," Jim muttered as he stood.

Blair's hands came up to rest on his hips.  "Okay, let's assume that we're really in the jungle.  How'd we get here?"  He looked at Jim.

"I told you, I don't know how we got here," Jim scowled.

Sandburg's hands came up in a palms-out gesture of conciliation.  "Okay, man, just stay cool.  How about, _why_ are we here?"

"You're asking me?"

Blair's expression turned more serious, his "professor" mask sliding firmly into place.  "Come on, Jim, who's the Sentinel here?"

Ellison drew himself up.  "Yeah, a Sentinel, not a damned magician, Sandburg."

Blair eyebrows rose and fell in a nod.  "Okay, good point, but, uh, look, man, **I** didn't will us here.  I don't even know where 'here' is."

Jim's forehead wrinkled.  "I-I think I do…"

"Well, that'd be a start."

The Sentinel's eyes narrowed as he studied the clearing again.  Why hadn't he recognized it earlier?

"Jim?"

"I've– I've been here before."

"When?"

"When I was here before," Ellison said, then immediately corrected, "when I was in the Army…"  Jim turned, taking in an entire 360 degree view of the clearing.

"When your Sentinel abilities were first activated?"

Jim nodded.  "I was on patrol, looking for rebels," the detective explained, his voice taking on the far-away tone of vivid memory.  "I stopped to rest and there was this… girl."

Blair grinned.  "A girl?"

Jim look at his Guide.  "Huh?"

"A girl," Blair repeated.  "You said you were here with a girl."

"Yeah," Jim said, nodding, then he shook his head.  "I mean, I was here and she found me.  She, uh, made a pass at me."

Sandburg's grin widened.  "I see."

Jim shook his head.  "No.  No, it wasn't like that, Sandburg, I couldn't– We didn't– Look, I just told her to go away."

Blair's smiled faded, his expression turning more concerned.  "Jim, what's going on, man?"

Ellison looked up, meeting his Guide's worried gaze.  "I don't know," he said emphatically.

Sandburg sighed, then replied, "Okay.  Look, why don't you sit down and relax?"

Jim looked back at Blair, a small smile flashing over his face.

"What?"

"This all started when I tried to help _you_ relax."

Sandburg shrugged a single shoulder, then flopped down on the mat.  "Mmm, this is nice."  He patted the material.  "Come on, Jim, sit down.  I'm sure we'll figure this out."

"I hope so," Ellison said as he sat next to his Guide.  "Simon expects us in his office tomorrow morning."  He stopped, looking up at the sky.

"What?"

"It was dark when I got back to the loft."

Blair's eyes rounded slightly.  "You're right!"  He looked up.  "And you know, it's not hot, I mean it's comfortable, but I'm not hot."

"The humidity," Jim added.  "It's not really all that humid either."

"This is weird, really weird," Blair said, shaking his head, then he brightened. "But, hey, my headache's gone!"

Jim shot the graduate student a sour look.

Sandburg shrugged.  "Well, it's good news as far as I'm concerned."

Embarrassment colored Jim's cheeks a dusky rose color.  "I didn't mean to imply otherwise."

"Okay, look, let's get back to trying to figure this out.  We know this is Peru, uh, or a virtual Peru, but this is a real clearing where you patrolled, and where a girl made a pass at you, and you turned her down, right?"

Jim nodded.

"Why'd you turn her down, man?"

Ellison scowled again.  "She was just a kid."

"Indigenous girls grow up a lot faster than they do back home," Blair replied.

"Still, she was just a kid.  I mean, I could've been her father.  I just couldn't."

"Okay, I can understand that," Sandburg said.  "Anything else happen here?"

Ellison thought a moment, then shook his head.  "Nothing."

Blair sighed heavily, his cheeks puffing.  "Okay, so what if it doesn't have anything to do with the time you were here?"

"Then what _does_ it have to do with?" Jim demanded.

"I'm getting there, man, just chill."  Blair lay down on the pad, pillowing his head on his arms.  "Okay, let's go back to what was going on right before this–"

" _Nothing_ was going on," Jim interrupted.  _I was not doing anything._

Blair rolled his head to look at the Sentinel.  "Jim, calm down, okay?  Just bear with me.  I think I might be on to something."

Ellison looked like he wanted to say no, but he nodded instead.

"Okay, tell me exactly what you did today."

Ellison took a deep breath, then gave Sandburg a blow by blow account of his day.  There was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Okay, what about the drive back to the loft?"

"It was fine, nothing unusual."

Blair tsked, then said, "Okay, uh, tell me everything you remember once you got to the loft."

Another deep breath, and Jim said, "I came in, hung up my jacket, and I, uh, I heard you and smelled the pain."

"You can smell pain?" Blair asked, eyes going wide with curiosity.

Jim nodded.  "I walked over and you were sitting on the couch.  I rubbed your shoulders."

Sandburg sat up.  "Right, you came over, started on my shoulders, but you also rubbed my face and my head… and my chest."

Jim looked surprised.  "I did?"

Blair nodded.  "Felt great, too."  He smiled, then got back down to business.  "Okay, close your eyes."

"What?"

Blair leveled the detective with a stern look.  "Come on, Jim, you know the drill."

"This isn't going to work."

"Humor me."

Jim closed his eyes.

"Okay, you're standing behind the sofa, you're rubbing my shoulders.  Now, what're you thinking?"

"That your muscles are tied up in knots."

"Good.  Your hands start to move, you're rubbing my face…  What're you thinking?"

"That with all that hair you should have beard shadow."

Blair chuckled.  "Nope, never been a problem.  Okay, what do you do next?"

"I rubbed over your face and into your hair," Jim admitted, his cheeks reddening.

"And it felt really good, too," the graduate student assured.  "But what were you thinking?"

Jim's eyes opened.  "This isn't–"

Blair hand came up, cutting off the comment.  "Close your eyes, Jim."

With a heavy sigh, the detective complied.

"Now, you're rubbing my scalp, remember?"

Jim fought the memory for a moment, but the sensation of the soft locks of hair tickled across his palms.  "Yeah, I remember now," he finally admitted.

"Good, tell me what you remember."

Jim shivered slightly.  "Your hair, it's soft.  And I can smell the shampoo, the soap."

"Good, Jim, good.  Just go with the memories, what do you remember next."

"I could hear you relaxing, the sound of your shirt settling on your skin as the muscles relaxed.  The couch creaking under the additional weight."

"That's amazing," Blair whispered.  "Too cool.  Then what?"

The stimulating aroma of Sandburg's arousal flashed through Ellison's memory, shooting straight from his mind to his groin at light speed. 

Jim bolted up and spun away from his Guide to hide the physical reaction the memory triggered.

"Jim?" Blair questioned, quickly climbing to his feet.  "You okay, man?"

"Yeah, fine," Ellison snapped, refusing to turn around.

"Jim, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, all right?" was the half-growled reply.  "I just need a little space," he added, his tone softening.

Sandburg watched as Jim strode into the jungle, disappearing from sight.  Sitting back down on the pad, he glanced around.  "Maybe it's some kind of allergic reaction to the shampoo and the soap," he reasoned aloud with himself.

He immediately shook his head.  _No, we tested several brands before deciding on what we're using now.  If it was an allergy, Jim should've reacted long before now._

 _Besides_ , he lectured himself.  _No shampoo can magically transport us from Cascade to the jungles of Peru_.  _Though if I can figure out how this did happen I could make a mint_.

Lying back down, Blair closed his eyes.  Sleep enveloped him, drawing him into a dreamless slumber.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Jim halted several yards into the thick foliage and stared down at the offending erection, scowling.  "What the hell's wrong with me?"

"You want him, and yet you deny yourself," a crackly old voice answered for him.

Ellison turned, his hands dropping to cover his nakedness.

An old woman stood a few feet away, her brown face deeply carved with the lines of age.  Barely reaching the detective's elbow, the diminutive woman radiated an air of authority and humor.

"Who are you?" Jim asked.

She smiled and cackled softly.  "You don't remember?"

Ellison took a step back as the air around the woman sparkled and popped, transforming her into the young woman who had propositioned him so many years before.

"How is this possible?" he demanded.

"There are many tests for a Sentinel," the girl explained.  "The men make their tests, and I make mine."  The air danced again and the old woman returned.  "Who do you think made this land?" she asked suddenly.

Jim's brow furrowed in confusion and he shook his head.  "I don't understand."

"She did," the old woman said, pointing at the sky.  "She gave birth to the jungle, to the water, to the animals and the people.  It is She who sent us the Sentinels to protect us."

"Your goddess?" Ellison asked.

The old woman cackled again and shook her head.  "It is not for you to understand."  She extended her hand.  "Come," she ordered, "we must go."

"Go where?  My friend–"

"Sleeps," she interrupted.  "He will be safe until we return."

Jim hesitated a moment, then took the woman's hand, her skin warm and soft despite the deep wrinkles.  Struck by a sudden rush of air, Jim closed his eyes.  When he opened them he was standing inside a dome-shaped cave.  A small fire burned, casting dancing light and shadow over the painted walls.

The woman stepped away.  "Sit," she ordered, and Ellison obeyed.

Walking to the fire, she settled herself across from the Sentinel.  Dipping her fingers into a small wooden bowl, she sprinkled dried flowers into the flames, where they burned a vivid blue and violet.  A clean, fragrant scent painted the air.

"Are you real?" Jim asked, confused.

"Yes," she replied.

"But this place–"

"You have crossed to this place," she interrupted.  "You have brought your _katchi_ with you."

" _Katchi?_ "

"You call him your Guide."

Ellison nodded.  "How did I do this?"

"You embraced your power and it brought you here."

"My power?" Jim asked, leaning forward slightly.  "You mean my spirit guide?"

She nodded.  "That is part of your power, yes, but not all of your power."

Jim took a deep breath.  He was still confused.  "I don't understand.  If my spirit guide brought me here, why did Blair come?"

"Your powers are…"  She paused, searching for the right word, and not finding it.  She raised her gnarled hands, sliding the fingers together, lacing them.  "You are like this."

Ellison's gaze fixed on her fingers.  "Connected?  Linked?"

She nodded.  "Linked."

"How?"

"You remember," she chided, shaking her head.

Jim opened his mouth to assure her that he had no idea what she was talking about, but before he could she crumbled more of the flowers into the flames and then he did know.

A wave of fear and desperation tore though his body, ripping open the stinging sorrow he'd buried.  Blair was dead.  Every detail of the man's corpse was imprinted in his memory and for a moment it was as if he was standing next to the fountain again, trying not let the whirlwind of emotions strip away his sanity.

"See, you remember," the old woman said softly.

And he did.  The shaman's instructions, the black jaguar running toward the straining wolf, both animals leaping, struggling to reach one another across what felt like a gaping forever-void.

And then their joining…

At the time Jim hadn't had the time to stop and think about what was happening. Alex was still loose, Blair was alive, and Jim had no desire to

revisit the tumult of painful emotions that had nearly overwhelmed him.

"Your spirits joined," the old woman said. "Look, and you will see it."

Jim let his eyes close.  In the darkness behind his eyelids colors danced and swirled.  He could make out his spirit guide, the big cat crouched low to the ground, looking up at him, its head cocked slightly to the side in an expression of calm regard.

A soft chuffle sounded to his left and Jim looked.  The wolf stood, its head held high, but also cocked slightly as if waiting for Jim to speak.

"I know you," Ellison said softly.

The wolf walked over to the jaguar and sat down next to the big cat.  In the eyes of both animals Jim could see the whispers of himself and Blair.  His eyes blinked open.

"Okay, I understand that we're joined now somehow," he told the old woman, "but what has that got to do with us being _here?_ "

Compassionate black eyes twinkled with amusement.  "There can be no more secrets between you," she said simply.

"Secrets?"

Reaching into the bowl, she scooped out a handful of the dried flowers and tossed them into the fire.  The flames danced up, colored blue and violet, orange and yellow.  Jim scrambled to his feet and stepped back, his eyes closing against the vivid colors as they assaulted his senses.  A moment later he risked a peek and found himself standing at the foot of the pad, looking down at Sandburg as he lay sleeping.

The younger man's naked body was like a siren that called out to him, and Ellison answered the call, dropping to his knees next to his Guide, gathering him into a tight embrace.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

In his dream Blair Sandburg watched the wolf and jaguar circling each other. He knew he was watching his and Jim's spirit animals, but he had no idea what it meant.  But something was definitely going on.

The dream shifted and he was back in the loft, Jim massaging his shoulders.  He smiled and closed his eyes, savoring the waves of pleasure that radiated through his body like warm sunlight.  The detective's hands shifted from shoulders to his face and Sandburg realized that he was reliving the moment.

 _I'm dreaming_ , he recognized.  _I'm dreaming what happened before we got zapped to never-never land_.  _Okay_ , he thought, watching the scene from across the room as he simultaneously experienced it in his body.  _So what did happen?_

Observer and participant scrutinized the unfolding act.  But nothing struck him as unusual – at least, not at first.  He noted the concern on Ellison's face, the revelation sending a surge of warmth through him.  He noted how the massage felt, how it had eased his headache and relaxed his too-tense muscles.  And he noted how natural it felt to share that kind of moment with the detective.  And the expression on Jim's face seemed to echo that sentiment.

Then he knew.  Blair felt his arousal at the same moment as his observer side saw the reaction on Jim's face.

 _Oh, man, what did I do?_   Blair shook his head.  _I wasn't thinking.  It just felt so damned good.  I– The spirit guides!  That was a mating–_

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Blair's eyes blinked open wide.  "Jim!?" he squeaked, engulfed in the man's embrace.  Before he could ask what was going on hungry lips closed over his.

Sandburg's eyes slid closed again and a soft moan pushed past his surprise-tightened throat.

Blair's soft, almost pleading moan was like a wave of molten desire, spiraling from Jim's lower abdomen and crashing straight down his shaft, leaving him hard and wanting.  He broke the kiss he'd initiated, saying, "I want– I need–"

"Yeah, Jim, I know, me too."

The air around the two men began to shimmer and a moment later they were sitting on the sofa in the loft, fully dressed, but still locked in their jungle embrace.

"Whoa!" Blair gasped, looking around the room.  "This is so weird!  So cool!"

"You're telling me?" Jim muttered as he released his Guide and climbed hastily to his feet.  Running a hand over his short hair, Ellison sucked in a deep breath and shook his head.

Still sitting on the sofa, Blair looked up at the older and man and grinned.  "Guess they sent us home to give us a little privacy."

"They?" Jim asked.

"Whoever's behind this."

"Yeah, right," Jim said, pacing several steps away.  Staring out the window, the lights of Cascade were unusually comforting.  "She said _I_ did it."

"She?" Blair asked, leaning forward on the couch and resting his elbows on his knees.  "You mean there was somebody else there?"

"An old woman," Jim said, his tone distracted.

"What old woman, Jim?  I didn't see anyone else."

"When I was in the jungle, alone," he explained.  "She took me to a cave."

"What happened?" the graduate student asked, his curiosity rising to the fore.

"Nothing," Jim said, his thoughts not at all focused on the conversation.

"Come on, Jim," Blair said, his voice taking on a slight edge.  "We need to understand what just happened, and why it happened.  Work with me a little here."

Ellison shook his head, trying to clear away the bedlam that rang between his ears.  "Maybe this is just better left alone," he replied softly.

Sandburg shook his head.  "No way, Jim.  Sit.  Now, tell me what the old woman said."

Ellison looked at the younger man, his gaze immediately seeking out the man's eyes.  There was no judgment there, no revulsion, only concern and inquisitiveness.  He walked back to the couch and sat down, leaving a good foot of space between himself and his Guide.

"So, come on, man, what did she say?" Blair pressed.

Jim glanced at the items on the coffee table, then looked back at Sandburg.  He had a kind of right to know.  "She said that we were linked."

"Linked?" Blair echoed, forehead wrinkling.  "How?"

"Our spirit guides are linked."

"Jim, explain, now."

Ellison looked away again, his gaze fixing on the city lights beyond the window as he said, "When you died," he said softly.  "Incacha told me I knew what to do."

"You saw Incacha?"

Jim nodded.

"What did you do?" Blair asked, his tone gentle.  They hadn't really talked about his "death."

"I was back in the jungle, near that temple we found later," Ellison said.  "I was my spirit guide."

"The black jaguar?"

Another nod.  "I was running toward you, but you were in the shape of a wolf."

"My totem."

"Yeah.  We were running at each other, and just before we would've collided, we both jumped."

"Jumped?"

"Jumped, leaped, uh, like we were lunging at each other.  I, uh, passed right through you, and I guess you passed through me.  And then you were alive."

"I remember, but now it's like a dream," Sandburg said, leaning back against the sofa.  "But, Jim…?"

Ellison turned, meeting his Guide's gaze.

"I always knew it was you who brought me back.  I don't know how I knew, but I did."

A brief, sad smile flashed across Ellison's face.  "I don't know, Chief, I think a lot of this was in hands a lot bigger than ours."

"Maybe so," Blair granted.  "So we're linked, that explains me making the trip to the jungle with you, I guess.  What else did she say?"

Jim paused, then admitted, "That there shouldn't be any secrets between us."

Blair grinned.  "I've been saying that all along."  When Ellison's expression didn't change, he added, "So, what aren't you telling me?"

Jim pushed to his feet and walked to the window, staring out at the city lights again.  "There are some things that should stay… in the dark."

The rush of clarity that struck Sandburg brought him off the sofa and onto his feet.  "Sex!"

Jim's face paled and he slumped against the wall.  _Why is he so damned smart?_

Blair crossed the room, positioning himself in front of the shaken Sentinel.  "That's it, isn't it," he said, rather than asked.  "In the jungle, I had a dream.  I saw what happened here, when you were, uh, rubbing me.  I saw my arousal _and_ your reaction.  And the kiss.  That's it, Jim!  You want us to, uh, to– uh, you know."

Ellison turned away.  "It's wrong."

"Wrong?  Why?" Blair asked, pursuing the detective.  Reaching out, he caught hold of Ellison's arm, drawing him to a halt.  "Look, Jim, I'm an anthropologist; there have been all kinds of expressions of sexuality across time and location.  Just because this culture labels homosexuality–"

"I'm not gay, Sandburg," Ellison grumbled.

"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about," Blair argued.  "Jim, that's just a label. Attraction between people is a lot more complicated than just same-sex, opposite-sex.  You _were_ aroused, weren't you."

Jim hesitated, the muscles along his jawline twitching in frustration.  He did _not_ want to have this conversation, but there was no escaping it.  Finally, he nodded.  "I felt like I was– Like I was out of control."

"Like you were with Alex?" Blair asked, his expression turning studious and concerned.

Jim immediately shook his head.  "No, it was different than that.  Very different."

"Okay, good, if it wasn't instinctual, was it pheromonal?"

Another shake of the head.  "No.  It wasn't anything triggered by my senses," he said, trying to explain.  "It was… something else."

Without a word, Blair escorted Jim back to the couch and sat down.  The detective did the same.

"Okay," Sandburg said, "let's forget about what triggered it.  Do you know why your arousal landed us in the jungle?"

Jim thought a moment, then admitted, "I don't know, but when I realized what was happening, I tried to stop it."

"And somehow that took you back to the time when you'd done the same thing with that girl?" Blair guessed.

Jim nodded, then shrugged.  "I guess."

Blair bounced up and paced across the room.  "Okay, let's go with this," he said, more to himself than to Ellison.  "If our spirit guides are linked somehow, then maybe we are, too.  I mean, that makes sense, right?"  He stopped and turned to look at Jim.  "Maybe when I got a, uh, little, uh, worked up, shall we say, you just picked up on that.  You know, pow!  Right down the ol' link!"

The Sentinel mulled the comment over, then nodded.  "Maybe."

"So maybe it wasn't your attraction at all, right?  Maybe it was mine," Blair concluded.  "You just reacted to it.  The link was acting like a, uh, a channel or something of some kind."

Ellison hesitated for a moment, then asked, "You were attracted, Chief?"

Sandburg blushed slightly.  "Hey, Jim, listen, it felt good, okay?  And I'm not real uptight about labels, if you get my drift."

Ellison's eyes rounded.  "You mean you're que– gay?"

Blair smiled indulgently.  "No, I'm not gay.  But I'm not a dyed-in-the-wool heterosexual, either.  I'm… curious.  Some people would call it queer, but not the way you were going to mean it."

Jim snorted and shook his head.  "Right."

"So, problem solved.  No more unscheduled trips, 'kay?

"I guess so," Jim agreed, but he knew he was just avoiding the truth.  They might be linked, but his reaction was something other than Blair's arousal.

"Great, okay, whatdaya say we go get, oh, Thai?"  Blair started for his jacket, hanging up next to Jim's.

The Sentinel could hear the undertone of pain in the younger man's voice.  Blair was giving him a way out, accepting the blame and blowing his own feelings off, but he didn't really want Ellison to take that way out, and neither did Jim.

"Chief."

"Yeah, Jim?" Blair replied, stopping near the door and trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"It's not that."

"Not what?"

"It wasn't you," Jim said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"But–"

Jim dipped his head and sighed.  "It'd be a great explanation, but there's something wrong with it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I know it's not true."

Blair walked back to join the Sentinel.  "Jim, do you know what the truth really is?"

Ellison cleared his throat, then forced himself to look up, meeting Sandburg's unreadable gaze.  "It was me."

"You," Blair responded, his expression half-fearful, half-hopeful.

"Look, I've never wanted– I've never thought– I–"

"Jim, look," Sandburg started, closing the distance between them a little more, "just tell me – yes or no – does making love to me turn you on somewhere?  Or does it make you wanna puke?"

Ellison drew himself up, thought about saying "no," but he couldn't.  It was true.  He nodded.  "Yes."

"Yes?" Blair asked.  "Uh, which?"

"Yes, the idea of making love to you turns me on somewhere."

Blair's eyes rounded in surprise.  "I don't believe you did that."

"What?"

" _Admitted_ that!"

Ellison scowled.  "Look, I–"

"I think we ought to pick up where we left off," Blair interrupted, then flashed Jim an inviting, predatory smile.

"I d-don't know," Ellison stuttered, taking a half-step back.

"Come on, Jim," Sandburg said, pursuing the detective, voice soft and encouraging.  "Isn't it better to see if this is really what you want?"

Ellison pinned his Guide's gaze.  "Is that what _you_ want?"

Blair thought for a moment, then nodded.  "Yeah.  Yes, it is.  Okay?"

This time it was Jim's eyes that widened.  The graduate student's candor was disarming.  "What if we end up back in the jungle?"

Blair's grin was devilish.  "Then we put that mat-pad-thing to good use, man."

Jim felt a shiver snake down his spine and end in his balls, making them tingle.  Was he really going to go through with this?  His resolve was cemented when Blair unbuttoned his flannel shirt and slipped it off his shoulders.  He tossed it onto the couch.

"Your turn," Sandburg said.

With trembling fingers, Ellison unbuttoned the buttons on his own shirt and pulled it off.  Walking to the sofa, he draped the shirt over the back.

Blair grinned at him, then bent over, untied his shoes and kicked them off.  Jim did the same.

"I like this," Sandburg said with a grin.  "It's kind of like playing strip poker, but it goes a lot faster."

Ellison couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled up out of his chest.  He shook his head, then asked, "What's next, Chief?"

"Mmm," his Guide replied, then unbuttoned his pants and slid them down over his thighs.  Stepping out of the jeans, he tossed them on top of his shirt.

Jim's breath caught in his throat when he saw the growing bulge hidden behind white briefs.

"Uh, Jim," Sandburg called softly, trembling slightly when he realized what the Sentinel was staring at.

"Huh?"

"Your turn, man."  Jim's hands moved to the button above his fly, and as he slowly freed the button, then drew down the zipper, Sandburg was sure he could see flashes of the jungle shimmer in the air behind the man, the intense green and golden sunlight making Ellison look like some kind of ancient jungle warrior.  Blair's breath puffed his cheeks.  "Oh, man," he sighed.  "This is too wild."

Jim stepped out of his pants and draped them over his shirt.  He grinned slightly. "Yeah, we've gotta be crazy."

Sandburg nodded, bending over to pull off his socks, Jim echoing his move.  That done, both men straightened.

"Ready?" Blair asked.

"As I'll ever be," Jim replied, wondering how in the world he was able to go along with this insane plan.

The graduate student hooked his thumbs into the band of his briefs and pulled them down over his rigid cock.  Looking up, he saw Jim was doing the same, the shimmer behind him growing brighter than before.

Naked, the two men closed the distance between them, stopping only when they held each other in a tight embrace. 

"Oh, man, look," Blair said, taking a half-step back.

Jim finally noticed the shimmer in the air, the soft, warm breeze and aroma of tropical flowers.  "What's going on?"

"I think you like getting it on in the jungle, man."

No sooner than Blair had said the words, the two men were standing back in the clearing.

Wordlessly, Blair wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and drew him close.  Without thinking, the detective dipped his head, and the anthropologist teasingly ran his tongue along his lips.

Suddenly Jim's legs felt rubbery and his belly quivered.  "What do you want?" he asked.

"The same thing you do," Blair replied.  "I want to make love…" he said, running his fingers up and down Jim's well-muscled back.  "You know, couple, copulate, do the nasty–"

Jim leaned over slightly, stopping the list by hungrily claiming Blair's lips for a long, passionate kiss.

"Oh, man," his Guide breathed when they surfaced for air.  "You are like, so good at that."

For several minutes they stood, locked together in a second kiss as their bodies grew hot with need.  Then, his face flushed, Jim pulled Blair down onto the padded mat. With gentle hands he pushed Sandburg over onto his back, then shifted to kneel between his Guide's legs.  Leaning forward, Jim twirled his tongue around one of Blair's nipples, then the other, then sucked on them until they were hard and red.

Blair arched his head back and pushed his chest up to meet the sensual attack.  He groaned when Jim began leisurely working his way down his belly, licking, nipping, and kissing every inch of skin he could reach.

"Gawd," Blair moaned when Ellison's tongue flicked across the younger man's seeping cock head, then spiraled down toward the base.  "Be careful, I can't–"

There was a wild gleam in Ellison's eyes when he lifted his head for a second. Blair recognized the look.  The jaguar.  _And I'm the rabbit_ , Sandburg sighed softly to himself.

"What?" Jim asked, noting the man's expression.

"Nothing," Blair replied, his eyes hooded with pleasure.

Ellison returned to the hunt, burying his head between his Guide's thighs.

To give the prospecting tongue more territory to explore, Blair rocked his hips forward and lifted his legs, draping them over Jim's shoulders.  The Sentinel responded, nuzzling the younger man's balls, then sucked them into his moist, hot mouth.

"Oh, yeah," Blair grunted, his fingers digging into the colorful material. "Oh, man, I'm close, so close."

Jim shifted again, opening his mouth and slowly inching down Blair's cock, swallowing as much of the graduate student as he could.

Shivers of delight raced up and down Blair's spine.

Jim inched lower, his hands squeezing his Guide's thighs as he pushed the throbbing cock as deeply as he could into his mouth, then up, and down again.

"Oh, God, oh, man, please," Blair moaned when Jim's mouth tightened on the head of his cock.

Jim pressed his tongue against the underside of Blair's cock, marveling how it made the younger man jerk like a puppet on a string.

"I'm gonna come," Sandburg groaned through gritted teeth.

Jim accepted the explosion like a hungry predator, gulping to ensure he didn't miss a single drop.  Sated, he dropped down next to Sandburg, a satisfied grin on his face.

Blair closed his eyes, letting the last waves of pleasure break gently over him. When he opened his eyes he found Jim studying his fingers.  "What?"

"Some kind of oil, I think," Jim explained, nodding at the bowl next to the mat.

Blair grinned.  "Your lady friend thinks of everything."

"What?"

Sandburg rolled his eyes.  "Lube, man."

Ellison's eyes widened, his cheeks turning bright red.  "Oh."

But Blair was already moving, pushing Jim over onto his back, then covering the man's well-toned body with his own.  He probed the detective's mouth with his tongue, then moved to neck and throat.  "You want to–?  Uh, inside me?" he asked, straddling Jim's thighs.

"I don't know," Ellison replied softly.  "I don't want to hurt you."

Blair leaned forward, Jim's rock-hard cock poking him in the belly.  He dipped his fingers into the wooden bowl.  "Definitely some kind of oil," he said, then looked at Jim. "Don't worry, I've, uh, done this a couple of times."

Jim's eyes rounded.  "With men?"

"Once," Sandburg admitted.  "And once with a woman who was into toys.  She–"

Ellison shook his head and held up one hand to stop Sandburg.  "Whoa, way too much info there, Chief."

Any other comments were stopped dead when Blair began to rub some of the oil up and down Jim's cock.  "I don't see any condoms," he commented.

"Next to the bowl," the Sentinel managed, lost in the sensations being generated by his Guide's hands.

"Hey, you're right," Blair said.  "The lady is good."

Jim felt the condom being unrolled down along his shaft, then a layer of the oil was added.  He shivered in anticipation.  "You're sure," he asked as Blair shifted, positioning himself over the Sentinel's blue-veined lance.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure," Sandburg said, slowly lowering himself until the tip of Jim's cock pressed against his pleasure-relaxed sphincter.  He pushed, but the tip slipped away, glancing up the crack of his ass.

Ellison reached down and held the base of his shaft while Blair tried again, this time embedding the crown in his hot hole.

"Ohmygod," Jim gasped.  "You're so tight."

Blair watched the rapt expression that crossed Jim's face before the detective's eyes closed in bliss.

"Oh, Blair, that feels good," he sighed.  "Really good."

His hands braced against Jim's chest, Sandburg began to lift and lower himself, working the pulsing cock in deeper each time.  He was elated by the emotions that spread across Jim's face with each movement.

"Like that?" he asked, pausing to tighten his muscles.

"Ahhh," Jim groaned, his head rolling slightly from side to side as his hips began to buck gently, embedding himself further.

Blair raised himself up until only the crown of Jim's cock remained inside, then slowly slid all the way back down and Ellison was completely buried.

Jim's fingers dug into his Guide's ass cheeks as he arched his back and begged, "Don't stop, baby, don't stop."

Sandburg chuckled softly, moving halfway up the burning shaft, then contracted his muscles as tight as he could.  Jim moaned and bucked up, trying to push back inside.  Blair relaxed his muscles and slid down again, repeating the action a few times, picking up speed as he did.

Jim's eyes flew open.  "I can't hold back much longer," he warned.

Blair smiled, increasing the tempo even more, his muscles clutching at the thickening shaft like a hand.  "Come on, Jim," he encouraged.  "Give it to me, man."

Ellison ground his teeth together.  "No, not yet…" he panted.  "Feels too good."

Blair rode his Sentinel harder, reaching down to pull at his own cock with one hand.  "I'm gonna blow," he growled.

"Yeah, oh, yeah," Jim cried as violent spasms shook his entire body.  He shoved his hips up one last time and let the sensations carry him away.

Blair could feel the shots of steaming come that blasted into the tip of the condom, and his own orgasm erupted, splattering across Jim's chest in long stringy strands.  Totally drained, he pulled himself free when he felt Jim begin to go slack and collapsed next to him.

Ellison panted for a while, enjoying the sensation as the last of his jism pushed free.

"Jim," Blair said, his voice slightly surprised.

The Sentinel's eyes blinked open.  They were back in the loft, lying on the living room floor, which was a lot less comfortable than the jungle pad.

"Oh, man," the graduate student said, climbing carefully to his feet.  Looking down at Ellison, he smiled.  "Looks like I made a mess."

Jim looked down at his chest, then up at his Guide.  "You sure as hell did."

Extending a hand, Blair helped Ellison to his feet.  "Want to share a shower?"

Jim nodded, reaching down to slide the condom off.  "Sounds good."  He looked around.  "What just happened here?"

Sandburg shrugged.  "You've got me, man, but I for one enjoyed it."

Jim grinned.  "Me, too."

Blair's expression brightened with excitement.  "Does that mean we can, uh, try this again?  I mean, we probably should, uh, you know, run some experiments."

Ellison nodded.  "I think we should definitely explore this."

Blair grinned back.  "Good, good.  I'm rubbing off on you."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked, trailing after Sandburg as he headed for the bathroom.

"You're becoming a first class researcher!"

"I'll show you research," Jim growled, dropping the used condom into the trash can and reaching for Blair…


End file.
